Posts Tagged ‘Biker Psych’

Banshee

In an age that bubbles under with rage, someone needs to tap the crack that breaks the damn. The floodwaters don’t always have to be righteous, sometimes they just need to be cathartic. That’s where Boston’s Banshee come in. Livin’ In The Jungle lets the chaos of the current free with the kind of wild abandon that feels counterintuitive of late. The band are huffing the exhaust from the sinewy side of the ‘70s. Their new LP for Feeding Tube/Cardinal Fuzz is knuckle beaten by the animal instincts of The Stooges, The Deviants, and Dead Boys, but they don’t stay down in the dirt for the entirety of their trip. While a primal thrum is at their core, the band stripes the record with a psychedelic smoke that winds itself around these chiseled rhythms. On “Dawn of Man” the band pounds a glam-stomped beat that reverberates to the bone, but they lace it up with ecstatic strings and narcotic gang vocals. In that regard, they take a good couple of swigs off the hippie hell raiser brand that Hawkwind and The Pink Fairies used to stoke their fires.

Beset with howls and the squalls of horns competing to crack the senses, “Savage Man” is hot to the touch, but the band are pretty quick to inject a good ounce of dry ice dampness elsewhere. Biker-psych isn’t a genre that gets too much love these days, and when it does its never with this level of self-awareness and swagger. Simmer the releases of Hoover III and Zig Zags down to their bits and bottle ‘em and its a brew coming close to what Banshee have concocted. The band aren’t afraid to mix their psychedelic metaphors and I respect that. They’re perfectly happy to dip their throat-shredded ozone burners in the mayfair trappings of hippiedom and it works so well. This one has all the earmarks of a record that’s going to get slept on, so I’m urging you not to be among the poor souls left behind. Crack the windows and let this one echo off the second stories around you.



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Warren Winter’s Band – “Crossbar Hotel”

Sophomore Lounge digs up a real gem here – a heady mix of folk, West Coast-leaning mellow rock ripples, and biker psych. The record is the work of Edward Winterhalder, now a leading authority on biker culture and author of several books on the subject. Around the time Winterhalder was based just east of Tulsa, OK, and working with the Bandidos, a club with a sizeable following that helped form the lyrical bent of Warren Winter’s Band. The record follows in the wake of Winterhalder’s previous outfit The Connecticut Dust Band, which Winterhalder fronted for 10 years previous to the formation of Warren Winter’s band. Where that band leaned heavier into the folk, here Winterhalder adds in the dose of hangdog country and prison blues that gives this one more heft.

Winterhalder taps his childhood friend Kurt Newman to drum on both this LP and its predecessor As I Was (’84). Alongside Winterhalder and Newman the band nabbed studio ringers and laid this down at Grace Studios in Connecticut. Both albums were released on Winterhalder’s own imprint Shovster records. While the haunting, desperate sound resonates nicely all these years later, its easy to see how it might have landed out of step when it was released in ’88. Thankfully, though, Sophomore Lounge followed the trail back to this one and given it a right proper release that features a hand-cut die cut sleeve and a limited 500 press. Fans of Gary Higgins, Raven, Spur, Circuit Rider and the spirit of outsider rock should find something to love here.

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